


Fix You

by sexuallyconfusedmoose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Big Brother Mycroft, Bisexual John, M/M, Nightmares, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7400923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexuallyconfusedmoose/pseuds/sexuallyconfusedmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was rude to John." </p><p>"Call him! Talk to him! Apologize! Do whatever it takes to make the them go away, Sherlock," Mycroft said. </p><p> </p><p>Sherlock Holmes is, being haunted by something from his childhood and the only one who can fix it is his best friend Dr John Watson</p><p> </p><p>WARNING: SPOILERS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend of mine originally, and then decided to publish it. This is also on Wattpad!

_John!" Mary screamed, as Sherlock ripped the wood away from the burning fire to save his best friend, John Watson._

_Just minutes ago, Mary had gone to Sherlock with her cell phone clutched in her hand. She had showed him a series of strange texts she had received, and she immediately recognized it as skip code._

_So, there they were, saving John._

_"_ _John!" Mary screamed her boyfriend's name while watching Sherlock tear the wood away from the blazing fire._

_Mary could see that Sherlock was not calm at all. She looked briefly at the crowd of people, the horror and absolute fear on their faces was obvious. She wondered if it was as noticeable on her face. Of course it was. Her boyfriend was dying._

_"John!" Sherlock was also yelling. He feared for his friend. He didn't want-he couldn't- lose his beloved blogger. He needed John. He wanted John by his side... He loved John._

_Sherlock knew that the fear and worry were clear on his face, but he didn't care. John Watson... His blogger... His best friend, was dying... Burning._

_"John!" Sherlock and Mary screamed in unison, both terrified for their doctor. Afraid for the man that changed their lives so much._

_Sherlock pulled the final piece of wood from the fire, and grabbed John. He pressed two fingers to John's neck to look for a pulse._

_Mary watched over Sherlock's shoulder, worry filled her, Sherlock hadn't said anything._

_Sherlock waited... His stomach dropped. His breath caught._

_There was no pulse._

_Dr. John Watson... Was dead..._


	2. Two

  


"Tea John?" Sherlock called into the flat.   


He waited for a reply. 

There was no response. 

"John!" Sherlock shouted. 

Only silence answered. 

A silence like the void. 

"John _do you want tea_?" Sherlock emphasized every word. 

 Nothing but the void answered. 

Sherlock's mind immediately jumped to worst case scenario. 

It _must_ have been a dream. John didn't really die in that fire... Right? Sherlock felt panic take hold of him. It gripped tightly, like it would never let go. 

In an instant, Sherlock ran to John's room in hopes of finding his flatmate soundly asleep. He found only a room empty of John's belongings. "No." Sherlock whispered in horror. 

His blogger was dead.

A depression blanketed him. Something he had not felt in years. 

Sherlock never allowed himself to feel emotions, but now he couldn't stop the tears. He had never truly felt sad, but as soon as his best friend died, he was devastated. 

He was broken. 

Broken beyond repair. 

Nothing could fix him. 

Nothing would ever fix him. 

Sherlock sat in his chair, looking at the case that he had tacked on his wall. A case he had been working on with John Watson. 

Not anymore. 

Sherlock was alone now. 

Sighing, he stood. 

He walked over to the fireplace and took the stash of cigarettes he kept hidden there. 

He lit one. 

  


**_TIME SKIP_ **

**_  
_ **

Sherlock's phone beeped. Hope filled him _was it John?_  No. It couldn't be John. He didn't bother to look, he knew it wasn't John... For he was dead! And no dead man can come back to life. 

Sherlock had taken down the case, he couldn't solve it without John. 

He didn't want to. 

He wouldn't.

He had also gotten rid of John's chair. He couldn't stand seeing it everyday, empty. 

Forever empty. 

The chair's absence also granted him a lovely view of the kitchen. 

Sherlock's phone beeped a second time. 

He ignored it again. 

He didn't want to talk to anyone but John, but John was dead. 

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

Sherlock sighed heavily, he reached for his phone and read all the texts he had received. 

_Sherlock, did you find anything on the case?_

_Sherlock?_

_The case Sherlock._

_Sherlock!_

_I'm coming over._

__Sherlock stared in shock at his phone.

He needed that chair back. 

The texts were all from Dr John Watson.

  



	3. Three

"Where's the case, Sherlock?" John asked his best friend, staring at the blank wall. 

The case, that the two of them had been working on together for almost a week, was gone.

"I took it down," Sherlock replied form the kitchen. 

"And _why_  did you do that?" John moved to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, 

Sherlock turned the tap on to fill the kettle with water, "Boring!" He said simply. 

John sighed, "Just one week ago, you thought this case was the most interesting one we've ever found, now it's boring?" 

Sherlock put the kettle on to boil and yelled, "Mrs. Hudson! We need more biscuits!" Turning back to John he said, "It's boring. I'm bored." 

John watched as Sherlock poured the tea into their tea cups, "Sherlock, this case isn't actually about you! It's a 'Welcome Back to the Job' case, for _me_! It's a case _I_  chose. This case is about _me_! Not you! You let _me_  choose a case! Letting me choose a case was _your_ idea! I chose a case to solve, now we need to solve it."

Sherlock muttered something like 'not everything is about _you_ John' while he put sugar and cream into their tea. 

John rolled his eyes and watched Sherlock continue making the tea. 

There was something different about Sherlock. 

And it wasn't only the case. 

Sherlock _never_  made tea. 

Mrs. Hudson or John always made it. 

So why would he make it today?

Sherlock tried to make sense of what had happened earlier. 

John's death was only a dream. 

John had moved in with his girlfriend, Mary Morstan, after Sherlock had 'killed himself'. 

John hadn't lived at 221b Baker St in months. Years even. 

So why had Sherlock forgotten?

"Sherlock." "John." They said in unison. 

They stared at each other for several moments in silence, each of them trying to decide whether they should speak first or not. 

"Go ahead." Sherlock told John. What Sherlock wanted to say wasn't very important anyway. 

John huffed, "Sherlock, what's wrong?" He looked Sherlock directly in the eye. 

"I'm fine. Nothing is wrong." Sherlock said, but he broke eye contact quickly. 

"Sherlock." John insisted 

"Fine." Sherlock sighed, "I miss Jim," he lied

"What?" John was taken aback, "Who?"

"Moriarty," Sherlock said matter-of-a-factly. "Don't look so appalled! Obviously I miss him!" Sherlock shoved John's tea into his friend's hands. "I want an interesting case! Like the bomber case!" 

"You miss... Moriarty...?" John repeated hesitantly, "The man who made you kill yourself... and the case when I almost got blown up?" 

"Yes! He was brilliant! His cases were interesting! I dare say, I want him back!"

John stared blankly at Sherlock's face. 

Sherlock cleared his throat, "So, would you like to continue with this _Boring_  case?" He smirked. 


	4. Four

Staring at the paper covered wall, Sherlock exclaimed, "It was the mother, John! Not the brother!" He had an excited glint in his eyes. "The mother committed the murder!" 

John frowned, brow furrowing, "That doesn't seem right... The mother couldn't have done it." He joined Sherlock at the wall. 

"And _why_ is that?" Sherlock inquired, raising an eyebrow at John. 

"She was on holiday during the time of the murder. She had the tickets and tan to prove it." John told his friend. "Did The Great Sherlock Holmes miss that?" He mocked

Sherlock looked down at his feet, then back up at John. "R-right. I wanted to see if you would notice." He murmured, "Just testing you." He cleared his throat, "This case is about _you_ after all." 

John stopped smiling. 

He tried to catch Sherlock's wandering gaze. 

He needed answers... 

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John?" Sherlock looked at John sheepishly. 

"What's wrong?" John asked "And don't lie to me. What is the matter?"

Sherlock wasn't acting like himself. 

He never missed _anything_. 

And he _never_ tested John.

"I told you yesterday, I miss Moriarty." Sherlock replied shortly. 

"Well Sherlock, I don't believe that." John stated. "His cases maybe, but I don't believe that you miss the man himself.Something else is the matter, you just don't want to say what it is."

Sherlock's eyes slid past John's and rested on the chair before returning to John's gaze with shaky confidence. 

"The last time I saw you like this it was during the Baskerville case. You need to tell me. Don't me sic your brother on you." He threatened.

"You're _wrong_ John. _Nothing_ is wrong. Nothing is the matter." Sherlock huffed and turned away from John quickly. 

"Sherl-" John started. 

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock yelled, cutting John off, "Where is our tea?!" He turned back to John, confidence restored in his eyes. "Don't you have a _date_ with your _girlfriend_?" He asked John venomously. 

John looked down at his watch, "Oh yes I do!" He looked back up at the consulting detective, "Continue the case later?" 

Sherlock mumbled something inaudible. 

John stared incredulously at his friend. 

Sherlock went into the kitchen without another word and sat down at his microscope, ignoring John. 

John continued to stare. 

"John," Sherlock said without looking up, "If you don't mind, I have someone coming over in a few minutes and I would appreciate it if you took your leave before they arrived." 

John sighed, "Fine. Goodbye Sherlock." And with that, John was down the stairs and out the door before e could hear Sherlock's reply. 

Once he was sure that his friend was out of earshot, Sherlock picked up his phone and dialed a number. 

"Yes...." The person on the other end muttered something. 

"You are on your way?.... See you soon, Mycroft."


	5. Five

" _What_ is the matter Sherlock?" Mycroft questioned his brother who was lying on the couch with his eyes closed, where he had been sitting for several minutes before Mycroft arrived. 

"Why do people keep asking me 'what is the matter'? Even Mrs. Hudson asked me! Nothing is the matter." Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes and putting his hands on his face. "I am fine." 

" _Something_ is the matter Sherlock. Even your goldfish sees it." Mycroft said, knowing it would annoy Sherlock. 

Sherlock glared, "He is not _mine_. And he is _not_ a goldfish." He protested, "His name is John and he is very intelligent. _Too_ intelligent to be a goldfish." He didn't need to add _but not as smart as us_ because he knew Mycroft was thinking it. 

"Oh," Mycroft said sounding intrigued. "Is this about Dr. Watson, himself??"

"Nothing is the matter Mycroft. Even if something were, it wouldn't be about John. Why would it be about John?"

Mycroft smiled, "You forget that _I_ am the smart one. I can see when something is wrong with my _dear_ brother." 

Sherlock sighed heavily. "Now isn't the time to bring up intelligence." 

He flicked his eyes over Mycroft. 

Mycroft had started working out again. 

He had been working out for nearly two months and had lost only two pounds. 

"If you are going to start working out again, you need to commit your diet as well." Sherlock pointed out. 

Mycroft ran his hands down his face, "Sherlock, we are not here to discuss my fitness, we are here to discuss you." 

"You are not my therapist," Sherlock complained. 

"I can see something is wrong Sherlock. Everything about you is off and a mess... More a mess than usual." Mycroft noted. "Sadness is in your eyes, there was anger in them earlier." 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Why are you the smart one?" 

Mycroft smiled softly at his brother, "Because Sherlock, I just am. Now tell me, _what_ is wrong?"

Sherlock dropped his hands from his face, squinting at his brother and running a hand through his curls, he said, "It's happening again." He closed his eyes. 

"Sherlock? _What_ is happening again?" A worried look crossed Mycroft's face, "Do you have a list? Is it that?" 

Sherlock laughed humorlessly, "No no. It's not that. The nightmares, they have come back."

Mycroft sighed, "Have you told our parents?" 

Sherlock shook his head, "Only you."

Mycroft nodded, "Good. Wouldn't want to worry them."

Sherlock agreed. 

"When did they start?" Mycroft added, "And why?"

Sherlock opened his mouth and closed it. 

He didn't wan to tell. 

It made him weak. 

This time feelings were involved.

"Sherlock." Mycroft persisted. 

"After I pulled John from that fire." Sherlock answered, "Most of them are of him dying. Me not being able to save him in time."

"And they have gotten worse?" Concern spread from his eyes into his voice. 

Sherlock nodded, "Worse than they were as a child." 

"Oh Sherlock......." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so hi. If you like the story so far, that's awesome. And I have all of these chapters pre written because they were for a friend, so I'd like to have an actual updating schedule instead of just randomly. If there's any suggestions for how often I should update or anything I should do or say in the story just comment or something. Anyways, I really hope you're enjoying this fanfiction! Byye!


	6. Six

 

 

_"John!" Sherlock shouted as he tore more wood away from the the fire that John was burning in._

_Mary was also yelling for John._

_But Mary was not helping Sherlock pull away the wood._

_Sherlock was angry at Mary Morstan._

_She was John's girlfriend and all she was doing was yelling John's name._

_Not helping Sherlock._

_Sherlock used his anger towards Mary to work harder to save his best friend's life._

_Finally, Sherlock pulled John from the blaze._

_Carrying John felt like lifting a dead weight._

No. _Sherlock thought_ He can't be dead

_Sherlock felt the army doctor's throat for a pulse._

_No pulse._

_The flatline sound rang out._

_Anger consumed him._

_He advanced on Mary, fury blazing in his eyes. "It's all your fault," Sherlock sneered. "You didn't help me pull him out! If you hadn't just stood there and watched, he would still be alive!" He yelled._

  
_Mary just smiled, "Oh Sherlock, it's not my fault. It's yours._ You _weren't fast enough..." Her voice became distorted, turning into a new voice._

_"No." Sherlock back away, "It can't be you."_

  
_Moriarty stepped closer, over John's dead corpse. "But it_ is _me Sherlock." He drawled, " Aren't you glad to see me? Didn't you_ miss me _?"_

_Sherlock felt the heat of the burning fire on his back, "But you're dead!"_

_"And when did that ever stop us?" Moriarty began laughing manically._

Sherlock woke in a cold sweat. 

His eyes traveled around the room to get his bearings. 

By the looks of it he had only been asleep for a few minutes. 

_"Sherlock, you look awful." Mycroft said, "You need to sleep."_

Mycroft had left fifteen minutes ago. 

Sherlock had told him everything. 

_"How did you feel when you thought that John was dead?"_

_"I was upset...No, it was more than that... I was..." He searched for the correct word, "I was depressed."_

_"And when you remembered that he was, in fact, alive?"_

_"I was ecstatic."_

_Mycroft nodded._

_"When I thought that he was dead, I didn't want to continue the case that we had been working on together. Not without him. I tore it down. I never wanted to do another case. And then he came back, and I was rude to him."_

_"Call him."_

_"What?"_

_"Call him! Talk to him! Apologize! Do whatever it takes to make the nightmares go away Sherlock."_

Sherlock took a deep breath, "Mrs Hudson! We need tea!" He called, "We need enough for two!"

Sherlock picked up his phone and dialed a number. 

"Hello?" John answered.

"John. Come to Baker Street now. It's an emergency."

 


	7. Seven

 

"John you need to come back to Baker Street now. It's an emergency." 

"What's wrong Sherlock?" John asked, then sighed. "Nevermind. I'm on my way." He hung up. 

"John walked back to the table that he and Mary were seated at. "I'm so sorry Mary. Sherlock just phoned, there's and emergency at Baker Street. He needs me... Now." He took a deep breath, "Do you mind if we reschedule to another night?" 

Mary smiled, "He just means to much to you, doesn't he?" She asked, "Sherlock Holmes." 

"Not as much as you mean to me." John told her. "But I have to go. It's an emergency." He kissed her cheek, "I'm sorry." 

"Go." Mary told him, grinning. "Go save Sherlock Holmes." 

John smiled, "I _swear_  I will make this up!" He promised as he put his coat on. 

Mary watched him go, sadly. 

She knew that he wouldn't make it up. He never did. 

She pulled out her wallet, _He even forgot to pay,_  she thought to herself. 

 

**/////////**

 

_John_

 John read the text from Sherlock

_Where are you?_

_On my way, Two minutes._

He replied.

Resting his head on the headrest in the cab, he couldn't help but wonder what this emergency was... 

Was it possibly about the case?

Maybe Mycroft was annoying him?

Or perhaps it was something much more serious.

 

**//////////**

 

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock yelled "Is the tea ready?"

"Just a moment!" She replied. 

Two minutes later, she came up the stairs with a teapot, two cups, a creamer, sugar cubes and biscuits sitting on a silver tray. 

"Thank you!" Sherlock kissed her head lightly. 

"Just remember, this is a one time thing. I'm not your housekeeper dear," she smiled and left the room. 

  
_John_  Sherlock texted. _Where are you?_

  
_On my way. Two minutes,_ John's reply came moments later, 

Sherlock took a deep breath and subconsciously began to count. 

 

1...

 

2...

 

3...

 

As the time of John's arrival grew closer, Sherlock's heart began to race. 

 

61...

 

62...

 

63... 

 

Sherlock took a seat in his chair, resting his head on his hands. 

 

118...

 

119...

 

120...

 

The door to the flat opened. 

John walked in. 

"Sherlock, what's th-"

In one quick movement, Sherlock was off his chair and standing directly in front of John. 

"Sherlock, what-" John was cut off by something unexpected. 

_Never_ in their friendship had either of them thought this would happen. 

Sherlock grabbed John's shirt collar and pulled him lightly-giving John a chance to pull away if he wanted-towards Sherlock, and kissed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. Okay, so kiss. Was this chapter okay?


	8. Eight

At first, Sherlock had expected John to push him away. 

Sherlock had expected John to demand what was wrong with him. 

Expected John to leave and never return. 

But none of this happened. 

John's hands hovered for a minute, unsure where to put them, and surprised at the sudden gesture. He slowly placed them on Sherlock's shoulders. Their mouths fit together perfectly. Sherlock wrapped his long arms around John's waist, pulling John against him, so that every part of them was touching. John's lips were soft and warm. John opened his lips, letting Sherlock's tongue explore his mouth. Wine. He tasted like wine. John must have had some before coming. It was a pleasant taste, sweet and tart. Sherlock traced his hands on John's back, tracing circles lightly, every circle pressed harder until his nails dug into the other man's back. A low moan escaped John's throat. Sherlock backed John to wall and placed his hands on either side of him, pinning him there with his body Heat coursed through Sherlock's veins, every second made him want more. He didn't want to stop kissing John. He wanted to do it forever. He could feel John's erratic heartbeat like it was his own. John clung to Sherlock like he was his lifeline, and was afraid to lose it. 

Sherlock slowly broke away from John, reluctantly, almost as though it hurt to be apart from him. 

They looked at each other, dizzy and disorientated. Sherlock's hair was a mess from John's hands, John's jacket was on the floor and his shirt was half unbuttoned. 

Sherlock broke eye contact, unsure of what to do next, so he asked shakily, "Would you like some tea? Mrs. Hudson made it so it shouldn't go to waste."

John laughed breathlessly, "Sure. I'll have tea please," he looked down at his jacket sheepishly and began to button his shirt back up. 

They sat in their chairs, sipping their tea awkwardly. They looked everywhere but at each other. 

Silence enveloped the room. No more beating hearts. No more kissing. No sound but the occasional passing vehicle. 

"So." It was John who broke the uncomfortable silence, "What was the emergency?" 

"There was none," Sherlock said simply. 

"What?" John demanded, head snapping to look at Sherlock. 

"There was no emergency," Sherlock repeated. 

"You made me leave my soon-to-be-wife for _no reason_?" John yelled, anger filling his voice

"Well there certainly was a reason... If you missed the first few minutes," Sherlock muttered, before realizing what John had just said. "Soon-to-be-wife? What do you mean?"

"Yes! I proposed to her last week. I was going to tell you," John explained. 

"Oh," Sherlock placed his tea on the arm of his chair. "Well, then, you can, ah, leave if you want. Go back to your fiancee," he stood and walked to the door, motioning for John to leave. 

"No." 

"No? What do you mean 'no'?" 

"I mean exactly what I said." John told him. "I left _Mary_ to be here. So I'm staying." 

Sherlock shook his head. "Well, maybe _I_ don't want you here."

"You can't kick me out!"

"Why not?"

"It's my flat too!"

"You moved out!"

John shut his mouth, taking a deep breath. 

Sherlock couldn't have John here. No matter how much he wanted John to stay, he couldn't. 

After hearing what John had said about him and Mary, Sherlock couldn't look at him. 

He might never _talk_ to John again. 

He might never _look_  at John again. 

John sighed, "Well _obviously_ you want me here, or you wouldn't have called... Or..." He trailed off.

"Or what?"

"You know." John gestured. 

Sherlock nodded and sat down again, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"I was waiting for the right time. I was waiting because you seemed somewhat... distant," John explained. 

"You should have told me," Sherlock murmured. 

"I know," John lowered his eyes, "Sherlock, I'm sorry."

He stared at the floor and wondered why Sherlock had done it. 

Why had Sherlock kissed him?

"Sherlock," John said. He looked up at his friend, could he still call him that? A friend? "Why did you kiss me?"

"You may not be as smart as me, but you do know emotions better than I do," Sherlock replied viciously, "I think that you, at least, can deduce that, John Watson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for so many reads! I really appreciate it guys! Hope the kiss was okay.... I'm a bit iffy on it....


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I got caught up in a bunch of other stuff. Updating will hopefully be more frequent now...

John woke up to someone shaking his arm lightly. 

“John,” a voice was calling him. “John.”

“Mmm?” John murmured. “Whaa…”

“John. Wake up,” the voice said sternly, but softly. 

John opened his eyes to see a figure leaning over him. “Sher-”

“John, it’s Mary,” the silhouette-Mary-said. “What’s wrong?” 

John shook his head, confused. 

“You seemed to be having a nightmare,” Mary explained. “About Sherlock Holmes.”    
“Oh… I don’t remember my dream,” John lied. 

Sherlock  _ was _ in his dream, but it  _ certainly _ was not a nightmare… 

It was about the kiss, and what would have happened if they had gone further…

“That reminds me. You haven’t seen him in a week. What happened when you went to Baker Street? What was the emergency?”

Had it  _ really  _ only been a week? It had felt like months. 

**FLASHBACK**

_ “I think you can at least deduce that, John Watson.” _

_ John stared at the floor.  _

_ Was Sherlock  _ in love  _ with him?  _

_ That couldn’t be right. Sherlock had told him once, when they first met, that he considered himself married to his work. He doesn’t have relationships, much less,  _ love _.  _

_ John began to laugh. “But you can’t be ‘in love’ with me! You don’t have emotions!” He laughed like it was a joke.  _

_ Sherlock flinched. _

_ John gave him a strange look, his smile faltering. _

_ “I think you should leave,” he told John.  _

_ John’s laughter died.  _

_ “Now, leave.” _

_ They stared at each other. _

_ “No,” John refused. “I want a straight answer. I want to know  _ exactly  _ why you kissed me.” _

_ Sherlock didn’t answer.  _

_ “I have a girlfriend! A fiancee, Sherlock!” John yelled. “You know that! And yet, you did it anyways!”  _

_ Sherlock muttered something that John didn’t understand.  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “I asked you, ‘Then why did you kiss me back?’” Sherlock repeated venomously.  _

_ John stared at Sherlock, unblinking in shock of what Sherlock had just asked him.  _

_ He stood and put his jacket on.  _

_ “John!” Sherlock said. _

_ “Goodbye Sherlock. I don’t want to hear from you until you have an acceptable answer to my question.” John left, slamming the door behind him.  _

“Nothing happened,” John reassured his fiancee. “Or at least nothing you need to worry about,” he murmured, lying down and falling asleep again. 


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long. I've been so busy with work and stuff. When September starts, I'll have school so updating will become difficult, but I will hopefully get an update in every week or so.

With his fingers steepled under his chin and his legs crossed, Sherlock sat staring at his phone, deep in thought. 

He had texted John to tell him about the case three days ago, but John had not replied… yet. 

_“I don’t want to hear from you until you have a good answer to my question.”_ John had said before leaving two weeks ago. 

Despite finding out about John and Mary’s engagement, Sherlock wanted to see John again. And not just for the case. 

Sherlock didn’t understand. He had tried to be obvious about it, his feelings for John that is, but was it not obvious enough?

He had done what the people in those films do when they are in love. Was it not enough?

He really had tried to show John that he loved him. Did he not try hard enough?

“Yoohoo!” Mrs Hudson came into the room. “I brought you tea!”

Sherlock thanked her but didn’t avert his gaze from the phone. 

“What’s wrong,Sherlock?” Mrs Hudson asked sounding concerned. “Is it your brother? Did he do something?” When Sherlock didn’t answer, she tried again, “John maybe? Is it John? You haven’t seen him in over two weeks, Sherlock. W-”

Sherlock ignored her and went into his mind palace. He searched for something that he had done wrong. 

He’d called John and told him it was an emergency. It was. 

He’d given John tea. He loves tea. 

He had kissed John. Kissing was often pleasant to people.Why would that make John angry?  He had obviously enjoyed it. The way he leaned into Sherlock, tangled his fingers in Sherlock’s hair, his elevated pulse, the way he had invited Sherlock to continue, to do more. Everything. And yet, he was angry. Why was he angry?

Nothing Sherlock had done was wrong Sherlock stood to get himself some tea. 

After drinking the whole cup, he sat back down on the couch. He resumed his previous position, fingers steepled under his chin, legs crossed. 

He sat this way for two hours, just thinking. 

The door to the flat opened. 

Sherlock opened his eyes and said, “I’ve been expecting you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think it was at the door? ;)  
> Anyways, sorry it was so short. It was kind of a "I'm still alive guys" chapter. They'll start to get a bit longer. Promise.   
> I'll update in the next few days, hopefully.   
> See ya!  
> (Comment how you feel about the story so far! I love to hear from you)


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